


The Final Curtain

by Gotcocomilk



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Gender-Neutral Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), I wrote this for Emet but you all can read it too, Multi, spoilers for 5.3 READ AT OWN RISK, too many theater metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28495125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gotcocomilk/pseuds/Gotcocomilk
Summary: Half of Azem was pitiable. Half of Azem was painful. Half of Azem wasn’t enough to soothe the hole burned into Emet’s soul. But Azem was and had always been extraordinary, and even half was a force to be reckoned with.Even half was beautiful.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 11
Kudos: 59





	The Final Curtain

**Author's Note:**

> IRL has been rough, and I have been eating some brutal writer's block. 0/10 would not recommend. But Happy New Year!

How strange, that this last act had come to this. The curtain had been drawn, the actors cast in their parts. The light filled a pitiful stage, and the audience was echoingly empty. It had all be ready. How very strange then, Emet-Selch, thought, that new heroes stepped forwards.

How very strange, that a hero now walked the first. After everything he’d done to orchestrated the final act of this star, after every plan he’d built from the raw ambition of mortals, a hero had arrived to save the day.

How very thematic.

Was their plan to vanquish him? Emet thought not. A shattered mortal hero wouldn’t even know his name, let alone the part he’d played here. They’d look to the light, and fight for a few hundred years of salvation.

Emet had slept for longer than this salvation.

Shadows and steps took him to Eulmore, to the decadence and decay of a dying city. He walked the halls, quiet, slouched, uncaring. He walked forward, and each step was lined with the purpose of millennia. He walked, to witness this final act himself. Emet was ready for a mortal hero. He was ready for a pawn to be moved, for an enemy to build plans around.

He wasn’t ready for Azem. He had never been ready for Azem, not a thousand thousand years ago, and not now.

No one could ever be ready for Azem.

It had been a thousand lifetimes and a hundred empires, but he had not forgotten the sheen of their soul. He could never forget how it glimmered, even tainted by Her blue. It had always been such a wild thing, and even cut and torn to pieces, it raged like a storm.

Emet had not been ready.

Slowly, like the rise of a dream, like every nation he’d built and designed into glory, like every mortal life he’d spend hoping, he stepped across polished floors. Vauthry’s voice was still echoing through the halls, and still angry, but Emet didn’t care to hear it. The wind brushed over his skin, corrupted light licking over him with each breeze, but he didn’t care to feel it. The corruption wasn’t strong enough to burn him, but it could have been. It would have been, if not for a true and pitiable hero. Emet washed the light away, with darkness and a flick of his wrist.

He wanted more than sleep, for the first time in an age and more.

A shattered mortal hero walked the first and really, Emet could have broken their dreams of salvation. He should have, for the rejoining, for his friends and his people, for his cause.

But he wasn’t going to. He was going to hope, instead. Emet looked up at a brilliant sky, and grimaced away the light.

Maybe he was the pitiable one, after all.

⊱ ━━━━.⋅❈⋅.━━━━ ⊰

Walking beside Azem was old and new, disquieting and calming, horrific and beautiful. Part of Emet lost itself in the familiar, in the wry smile the warrior of the Source wore, in the wild adventure that seemed to follow the hero from battle to battle. Part of him reviled this fractured soul, watched the faded shards of a great man and knew only despair. It was like watching the last act of a solemn play, drawn out over the strands of his heart.

Emet hadn’t wanted to be part of a tragedy again.

Half a soul couldn’t be the hero of this stage, but half of Azem, well. Half of Azem was more than anyone could plan for. Even the wind welcomed Azem, pulling them up and up into new chaos and discovery. It was exhausting to stand beside. It was exhilarating to watch again. It was enough for Emet to hope, tired wings beating in his chest.

Half of Azem was pitiable. Half of Azem was painful. Half of Azem wasn’t enough to soothe the hole burned into Emet’s soul.

But Azem was and had always been extraordinary, and even half was a force to be reckoned with.

Even half was beautiful.

Emet sighed and looked away, up into the shadows of massive trees. They were such young things, for all their size. Their shade could have been deeper, their darkness sharper.

A shame.

The hero walked closer, eyes too bright, hands too strong, shoulders too weary. Azem had looked the same, once, and nothing in Emet could resist that.

This play would have an audience, after all.

“Oh, very well,” he said, and reached blackened fingers into the Aetherial Sea to catch a single mage. _Oh, very well_ , he said, like he wouldn’t do anything and everything for Azem. _Oh, very well_ , he said, like he didn’t plan for the hero’s death.

It was exhausting, playing the villain of this story. Emet would rather sleep. But sleep wouldn’t burn the hope out of his chest, and sleep wouldn’t fight for his people. Sleep wouldn’t fix a thousand thousand years of growing loneliness. Only death could soothe that wound, and Emet didn’t hope half of Azem was strong enough for that.

Maybe he should have. Maybe he didn’t want to. Maybe Emet wasn’t the playwright of this last act at all.

⊱ ━━━━.⋅❈⋅.━━━━ ⊰

Light warden after light warden fell, to the sword and the axe and the cane. Emet stood at the side and watched the sky grow dark, felt the balm of the night sky across his face.

It was comforting, to feel soft shadows against his skin. It was unsettling, to watch light break new shards of Azem’s soul, cracking over it’s beauty like corrupted lightning. It was infuriating, to watch Her claim everything Emet had ever cared about.

Azem had not wanted this. Azem had stepped away, away from everyone. Azem had wanted to forge a new path, as they always had.

Emet watched the Warrior of Darkness move to Hydaelyn’s will, and knew only despair. But he said nothing, through it all. Better to watch and judge, better to stand aside. Hope couldn’t grow on fallow ground, and Emet, for all his hope, had never been a fool.

The hero who wasn’t whole needed to show their worth, before Emet could allow the curtain to rise on this new world.

Emet needed to know they would be remembered.

⊱ ━━━━.⋅❈⋅.━━━━ ⊰

In the end, the hope bloomed, a flower bright from Azem’s conviction. In the end, the hope cast new shadows across the world, cool and gentle.

In the end, half of Azem was more than enough.

Emet-Selch, last of his office, was awake to see the most beautiful light. It glinted, a shimmering gold that Emet had never forgotten, not in all his years. But really, he was hardly Emet-Selch any more. There was no office to hold him to that name, and no one left to remember its meaning. Emet-Selch was nothing, now, and he didn’t need to keep moving forward.

Hades could feel the sunrise, spreading out through his soul, and it burned so sweetly.

“Remember us,” he said, and knew that Azem would. Azem would remember, so Hades didn’t have to. Azem’s eyes might be sad, and strong hands might be shaking, but Hades knew they would remember.

Azem would remember them. At last, this long vigil was over. Strange, that now he didn’t crave the sweet taste of sleep. Strange that he only wished to kiss a smile onto that warrior’s face, in a world that didn’t need heroes.

How very strange, he thought, as the light carried him away.

**Author's Note:**

> Come hit me up on [my server](https://discord.gg/7tn2ywb) for general tomfoolery, and my [twitter](https://twitter.com/gotcocomilk) or [tumblr](https://thehoardofthegreatdragon.tumblr.com) for stupidity. 
> 
> I love to hear if I wrote a particularly captivating or interesting line-- feel free to include it in a comment to feed your friendly neighborhood writing monster.


End file.
